Autumn
The trees are shedding their golden crowns,
Their leaves light spiral down,
Upon the earth, a carpet, soft,
A quiet, resting town.
In the coolness, shadows dwell,
And whispers ride the airs;
The harvest yields its fruits, reveals
The bounty of our cares.
O Autumn! Find in Nature’s chest
The warmth you left behind;
And in each breath, a wistful quest
That lingers in the mind.
- Alphonse de Lamartine